Dream a little dream with me
by jasperskitty
Summary: After fighting a Djinn, Derek lapses into a magical coma. And the only person crazy enough to follow him is Stiles. Crazy, but determined. AU, past Season 2
1. Chapter 1

' _To each there comes in their lifetime a special moment when they are figuratively tapped on the shoulder and offered the chance to do a very special thing, unique to them and fitted to their talents._

 _What a tragedy if that moment finds them unprepared or unqualified for that which could have been their finest hour.'_

 _Sir Winston Churchill_

 **Chapter 1**

Stiles is dead on his feet.

No wonder.

He hasn't had a good night's sleep in days. Not to mention a decent meal.

But he can't just call it quits and go home, waiting for things to resolve themselves. Sure, that would be great, but unfortunately it never happens.

No, usually, it goes like this.

They get attacked out of the blue by something they haven't met before. They try to fight it, but lose out. They run and hide, using the breather to regroup and plot their next move. And then they go out and fight again. And just before things seem to get completely out of hand, someone comes up with a brilliant idea and saves the day at the very last minute. And not to sound conceited or anything, but most of the time it's Stiles _._

But not this time.

Well, he probably would have come up with something if he'd gotten the chance. But everything went down so fast.

In fact, it's over before it even started …

* * *

 _For days people have been disappearing._

 _Just a few, not enough to put the Beacon Hill's Sheriff's department on high alert, at least not yet, but more than enough to arouse Stiles' suspicion that yet another supernatural creature has found its way to Beacon Hills. Not to settle down and enjoy the scenery, but to wreak havoc._

 _There are no witnesses of course. The creature, whatever it is, only seems to strike at night. What a surprise. It snatches up one person at a time, which is a relief, of course, but it also means it takes a few days before anybody catches on._

 _Weirdly enough, it's Lydia who leads them to the first body._

 _It's a young girl, barely thirteen, a runaway from a few towns over, which explains why nobody has been looking for her here. It's hard to say how long the thing had been keeping the girl, before discarding her lifeless body like garbage. But whatever the thing did to her, it left her body completely depleted, almost sucked dry._

 _According to Melissa McCall, there are no puncture wounds, or any other wounds for that matter, nothing to indicate what they might be dealing with. The only thing they know for sure is that the poor girl died of dehydration._

 _Naturally, the creature's presence makes everybody nervous, not just Stiles._

 _Fortunately, it doesn't take the wolves long to track down its scent and find its hiding place. It's the sewers underneath a vacated building in the old part of the town._

 _Stiles goes with them, of course. But a certain werewolf insists that he stays in his Jeep and wait for their return. Needless to say, he puts up a fight, but one look and the usual threat of teeth do the trick, and he complies, although grudgingly._

 _He watches the six wolves split up in teams of two, entering the building from three sides. And then he waits._

 _Fifteen minutes._

 _He is just about to disregard Derek's order and go after them, when his phone rings. He doesn't recognize the number, but accepts the call nevertheless._

" _Stiles, it's me."_

" _Scott, thank God." Stiles breathes a sigh of relief._

" _Stiles, you need to call Deaton." Scott instructs. He sounds a bit winded, but otherwise fine._

" _Is everybody okay?"_

" _More or less. The creature is dead, though. But Isaac and Derek are out cold."_

" _I'm on it." Stiles replies and hangs up, immediately dialing the number of the animal clinic._

* * *

 _The veterinarian makes it there in record time._

 _And he is not alone. Allison is with him._

 _Together they follow Scott down into the sewers, right to the chamber where he left the rest of the pack, guarding their unconscious pack mate and their Alpha, and of course the dead creature._

 _The thing looks human. Tall, bald-headed, half-naked and covered in ink from top to bottom, but human nevertheless. But according to Scott the creature's eyes had glowed bright blue and so had his hands when he attacked them._

" _What is he?" Scott inquires._

" _From what you just told me and the things we've learned so far, I'd say we are dealing with a Djinn." Deaton concludes, kneeling next to Derek and Isaac to check their vital signs. He seems to be equally relieved and worried. Not exactly a good sign, but it's something. "It would certainly explain why a simple touch managed to put out an Alpha."_

 _And it's true. Derek's body has no marks on him, but he is still out cold. It's weird. Who would have thought Djinns were real? But then again, after everything he has seen so far, Stiles isn't overly surprised._

" _A genie, really?" Erica says, eyeing the dead creature with new interest._

" _I doubt it's the kind that grants you three wishes." Stiles comments, wryly._

" _Stiles is right." Deaton confirms. "Djinns are nothing like the creatures you know from books or television. Granted, despite their physical appearance they aren't very strong, which is probably why you were able to take him down so fast. But they are still a serious threat. They can poison their victims with a mere touch. I don't know how it works exactly, but my guess is that they use that connection to inject some sort of venom, effectively trapping their victims inside their own mind; making them think that their deepest desire, their dream reality, is real. And the longer it goes on, the more damage they can cause."_

" _Isaac barely made contact with the Djinn, maybe for a second or two." Boyd points out, clearly just trying to be helpful._

" _Yeah, thanks to Derek." Jackson remarks, snidely. Some things never change. Stiles still loathes the guy, but he tries to get along with him. And as much as it pains him to admit it, Jackson makes a pretty good werewolf. "He pushed him out of the way. Derek and the thing got into a fight after that. It didn't last long, but something happened between them …"_

 _It's easy to tell that Jackson is worried, even though he tries his best not to show it. But so is everybody else, including Allison. "They are going to be all right, though?"_

" _Too soon to tell," Deaton answers honestly. That's a thing Stiles loves about the man. He may not tell them everything, but he certainly doesn't sugarcoat things either. "Let's get them to the clinic. All three of them."_

* * *

So, yes, it's true.

There is no need to come up with another plan of attack.

And that's great. For once their first attempt was successful. The creature is dead. Crisis averted.

As if!

They still need to find answers, more precisely, a key to solve their current predicament.

Well, not exactly _their_ predicament.

 _Derek's._

Isaac, thank God, is fine now. But it took him almost a day to wake up. And he only got a small dosage of the poison. Derek, on the other hand, got the full load. When he killed the Djinn, his entire system was flooded with the creature's venom. Simply put, he got an overdose. And according to Deaton, if he hadn't been the Alpha, it would have killed him right on the spot.

Unfortunately, it still could.

It's been three days, and Derek is still out cold. And things don't look very promising. His condition hasn't worsened, and that's good, but he hasn't made any progress either.

And neither have they, but not for the lack of trying. They checked every book they could get their hands on, even the Argent's bestiary, but so far, nothing.

Stiles is beyond frustrated, and angry.

Frustrated with himself and angry with Derek.

Why does he always have to play the hero and throw himself head first into danger?

Sure, in this he truly is the perfect Alpha. Always ready to sacrifice his own life in order to protect his pack. But it's not just him and his three Betas anymore. His pack includes five more people now, and three of them are human. The only element of uncertainty is Peter. And he probably always will be. But that's neither here nor there.

Derek needs to be more careful. As the Alpha, he needs to set a good example, not teach them how to be a reckless fool.

There is a cure out there, and Stiles will find it, no matter the cost.

And when he does, he will tell Derek to stop being such an idiot and man up.

* * *

 **Thoughts?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Many thanks to my Beta** **KioshiUshima** **.**

* * *

" _Life is doubt,_

 _And faith without doubt is nothing but death."_

 _Miguel de Unamuno_

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

When the letters are starting to blur before his eyes, Stiles decides it's time for a break.

He leaves the front desk and walks into the main office. Maybe he should have gone for a walk instead, because he really doesn't like it in there. It smells weird, and seeing Derek lying on a metal gurney, completely still and unresponsive, just doesn't sit right with him. He can't exactly explain why, it just does.

Merely out of habit he asks the same question as always, not truly expecting a different answer but always hoping for one. "How is he?"

"The same, I'm afraid." Deaton answers, not even looking up from whatever he is doing. There are countless Petri dishes and various bottles filled with powder and herbs scattered all over his desk. Clearly, he is still doing one of his experiments. What kind, Stiles cannot tell. "But I finally managed to get the needle to stay in."

"That's good." Stiles yawns, trying his best not to think about how he managed to do it. Needles really aren't his thing, and neither is blood. But he is glad that Derek is getting some sort of nourishment, even if it's just in liquid form. The other victims hadn't been that lucky.

"You really should go home and get some sleep, Stiles." The veterinarian admonishes, not for the first time. "I promise I will call if there are any changes."

If he'd sounded more optimistic, Stiles might have actually complied. But he doesn't.

"No, I'm staying." He states, leaving no room for discussion.

"Very well." Deaton concedes. "But I'm not sure that there is anything more we can do for him at the moment other than monitoring his condition. Essentially it's up to him to wake up."

Stiles knows that. Of course, he does. And he is sick of hearing the same line, over and over again. "But there has to be something. You said the longer he stays under, the more difficult it will be for him to break free. It took Isaac a day and every ounce of his strength to see through the charade and wake up. Derek got dosed with pretty much everything the Djinn had in his system, and he has more baggage than any of us."

"What do want me to say, Stiles?" The veterinarian sighs.

"That you have an ace up your sleeve. You always do." Stiles exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. Deaton doesn't respond to his childish outburst, but there is something about his posture that tells Stiles that he is onto something. "You do, don't you?"

"Maybe." Deaton allows.

"Why haven't you told anyone?"

"Because it's dangerous."

"What else is new? Just tell me." Stiles demands.

"It's just a theory." The veterinarian cautions, finally putting down the pipette in his hand and turning around on his stool to face Stiles. "From what we've learned so far about the species, Djinn poison attacks the brain, keeping the person trapped inside an illusion. As you know I managed to extract some of the Djinn's venom and did some testing. I didn't find a way to counteract the toxin, but I may have figured out how to control its effect."

"That's good …"

"It won't work on Derek." Deaton cuts right in, effectively destroying the last flicker of hope Stiles had that this could be fixed by a simple remedy. "But it might work in conjunction with this."

He picks up a small vial containing a few brown sticks and hands it to Stiles. The label reads 'Silene undulata', which tells him nothing. Lydia is the Latin expert, not him.

"What is it?" Stiles asks, setting the vial back on the table. Whatever it is, it clearly is their only hope to help the Alpha. And since his hands aren't very steady at the moment, he doesn't want to take any chances.

"African Dream Root, also known as Ubulawu or Xhosa. It's a plant used in spiritual rituals. It contains a psychoactive compound that produces intense and imaginative dreams, and combined with someone else's DNA, it enables one to enter that person's dream."

Even though he is highly sleep deprived, Stiles is still able to connect the dots. "So what you are saying is that you found a way for someone to get in there, in Derek's mind, and help him wake up?"

"Basically."

"I'm sensing another 'but' coming on." Stiles comments, wryly.

"Well, theoretically speaking, anyone could do it, _but_ I think this task is better suited for a human than someone supernatural."

"So you wouldn't recommend one of the werewolves?" Stiles clarifies.

"At this point I wouldn't recommend _anyone_."

"Come on, Doc, someone has to do something. We've been at this for days without making any progress and now you we have a plan. Maybe it's a crazy plan, but those are usually the one's working for us. I'm game."

"Thanks for vote of confidence, Stiles." Deaton smiles, humbly. "But whether or not we are putting this plan into action, I think we should move Derek. For one I can't keep the clinic closed for much longer without causing any suspicion, but more importantly I think familiar smells might help the process."

"Great idea. I'll call Jackson and Boyd." Stiles says, pulling out his phone.

"And then you should go home and get some sleep." Deaton orders, sternly.

"Will do!" Stiles salutes. "I guess I'm going to need all my strength to see this through."

* * *

Pitching the idea to the others doesn't go over well.

Naturally.

The funny thing is, the only person who thinks it's a great idea, is Jackson. It's not very reassuring, but considering how close he and Derek have gotten over the last months, Stiles believes he actually means it. Jackson might not care about him, but he clearly wants Derek to pull through.

Of course, Stiles has his own doubts.

It's risky, maybe even downright stupid. Of course, he has complete faith in Deaton's abilities, but nobody has ever tried something like this. As far as they know. But what other choice do they have? They don't have a plan B. Not this time.

"We can't just leave him like this. It's been days. Whatever keeps him trapped, Derek needs someone to pull him out. Someone, who has no reservations, whatsoever, to make him see the truth. And let's face it. None of you," Stiles points at each werewolf in the room, "has the nerve to call him out on his shit. You are bound to him in a way I'm not. And Allison's dad would kill every one of us if she tried. And no offense, Lydia, you just don't know him as well as I do."

"No offense taken." The red-haired girl smiles.

A couple of months ago Stiles' heart would have skipped at the sight, but not anymore. After watching her, putting herself deliberately in harm's way to save her boyfriend and her friends, it was clear that nothing, and nobody, could ever come between those two. They are simply meant for each other. "And just for the record, I think it should be you."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I just do." She shrugs.

Stiles eyes her for a few seconds, wondering if she is hiding something vital from him. But he knows her too well to try and make her tell him. And with Jackson there, who would rip his arms off if he'd upset her in any way, it's an even worse idea. "Well, since there are no more objections, how about we get this show on the road?"

"Stiles is right. If we are going to do this we should do this now." Deaton agrees. "Scott, why don't you boil some water and bring it upstairs? The rest of you should stay down here."

Naturally, there is some complaining at first, but in the end the werewolves obey. Stiles is a bit surprised, but mostly he is relieved. Getting into bed with Derek is weird enough as it is, he certainly doesn't need anyone (read: Jackson and Erica) making fun of him.

He follows Deaton up the spiral staircase. While the Doc sets up everything in the bedroom, Stiles goes into the adjoining bathroom to take a leak. He doesn't really need to go, but who knows when he will wake up. The thought frightens him a little. But according to Deaton, they have only 48 hours until the African Dream Root wears off. Hopefully, that's enough time. Then again, time moves differently in dreams, he might have weeks at his disposal … which is kinda scary too. But he can hardly back down now, at least not without looking like a pussy.

'Suck it up! Time to face the music.' Stiles tells himself and leaves the bathroom.

After taking off his sweater and his belt, he crawls onto the bed. Fortunately, it's big enough for four, and very comfy.

A few moments later Scott joins them, bringing the water kettle with him. He sets it down on the table where Deaton is busy mixing the ingredients together. He doesn't offer to give his Boss a hand, but walks over and sits down on the chair next to the window.

"I see you brought your pillow." Scott comments, dryly. The smile on his face doesn't reach his eyes though.

"Duh! You know I can't sleep without it." Stiles replies in his usual cheeky way. "Don't worry, Scott, this will work. I know it will. Just keep my dad away from here as long as you can, okay?"

"Okay." Scott agrees. Stiles can tell Scott doesn't like it, but he will do it anyway. And who knows? If all goes well, he might not even have to lie to the Sheriff about any of this. They should be safe at least until Sunday.

Before either one of them can come up with something else to say, Deaton approaches the bed.

"Here, you have to drink this while it's still hot." He says, handing Stiles the steaming cup. "I mixed in the herbs I told you about. It's mostly rosemary and basil. They will improve clarity in mind and help you to focus. I'm afraid it still won't taste very good."

Stiles grimaces when he takes a whiff, but gulps down the stinky concoction before he could change his mind. "Yuk! I'd like to say I had worse, but that would be a total lie."

Chuckling at Stiles' reaction, Deaton takes the empty cup from him and walks back to the table, only to return a few seconds later with a large needle in his hand. "Remember what I told you. You need to be very careful. Don't try to push him. Otherwise he might sink even deeper into his dream world. Wherever he is, he feels safe there, he wants to stay."

"I know what I have to do." Stiles lets out a sigh of exasperation. "Take it easy, go with the flow and watch my mouth. I can do this, Doc. Just get on with it …"

"Okay," Deaton smiles. "Here we go."

Stiles can't feel the needle breaking his skin, but he can feel the liquid being pushed into his bloodstream. It's cold, but also kinda burning, and it works really fast. Blinking, he tries to fight against the sudden wave of dizziness, but it's pointless.

The last thing he hears, are two voices wishing him good luck.

* * *

 **Next time: Stiles wakes up inside Derek's head …**


	3. Chapter 3

**Texts in** _capital italic letters_ **are memories from the real world.**

* * *

' _Never make your home in a place. Make a home for yourself inside your own head. You'll find what you need to furnish it - memory, friends you can trust, love of learning, and other such things. That way it will go with you wherever you journey.'_

 _Tad Williams_

 **Chapter 3**

Stiles doesn't know what to expect.

True, they all surmised that Derek would be with his family. It's the only reasonable explanation why he hasn't woken up yet. And who could blame him? Aside from Peter, every member of his family is dead, and it's his fault.

Well, not really.

Derek has been an unwitting participant in Kate Argent's sick plan to decimate his family, not an accomplice.

Then again, ignorance may be bliss sometimes, but it's rarely ever an excuse.

But that's neither here nor there.

When Stiles comes to, he _literally_ wakes up from sleep, on a couch, in a room which looks kinda familiar but at the same time not really. Still, it feels like he has been here before, he just can't quite remember when.

But that's not what makes him nervous.

No, it's the strong, hairy arm wrapped around his lower abdomen, holding him firmly in place. He can barely move an inch, but even if he could, he wouldn't need to turn around to know who is snuggling up against him. He already has a pretty good idea.

 _YOU WILL RESUME THE ROLE DEREK HAS SET FOR YOU._

Not even in his wildest dreams Stiles would have guessed that he would find himself being the Alpha's snuggle monkey. Sure, they have a relationship. He might even go so far as calling it a friendship, but nothing beyond that. And why would he? Derek has never shown any sign that he is interested in something _more_.

But maybe this isn't what Stiles thinks it is.

Maybe they just fell asleep watching a movie.

It happens.

Scott and he used to have these sleepovers where they would fall asleep in the same bed, and sometimes they would wake up wrapped around each other. But there were never any boners involved. Ever.

Just before he can work himself into a full blown panic attack, the front door opens and two girls walk in. They each carry a brown bag containing groceries. It's easy to tell that they are sisters. Both have the same kind of long, deep brown hair. They even move with the same kind of grace.

"… and then he said that he wasn't ready to commit." The young brunette finishes.

"Like I haven't heard that one before," The older one scoffs, shaking her head.

Stiles remembers her, but not in the good way. The last time he saw her face, it was in a makeshift grave.

"Laura," Stiles breathes. He didn't intend to say her name out loud, but it's too late now. He already called her attention.

"Good morning, sleepy head. Time to get up." She smiles at him. "You too, Der."

"Just a few more minutes," a familiar gruff voice grumbles from behind him, pulling him closer.

"Now, Derek." Laura growls. "The rest of the family will be here any minute and we still need to set the table."

"Fine." Derek gives in. The moment he loosens his grip, Stiles is up on his feet.

"I need to use the bathroom." He says, swaying slightly.

Before anyone can say anything he runs down the hallway.

* * *

Stiles picks the right door on the first try.

He remembers now.

They are in the Hale house. It looks very different, though, nothing like the ruins he has been to a few times. It feels different too. Even though he hasn't seen much yet, it's easy to tell that the house is full of memories. Memories of happy times, the family sharing meals together, watching TV, having Christmas, some of the children probably have been born here as well.

Stiles has been trying to convince Derek to rebuild the house, or tear it down, if he must. But Derek made it very clear that he doesn't want to do either, and a part of him understands the Alpha's reluctance.

It hasn't been easy getting rid of his mom's things after she died. In fact, it's taken years. Most of it is still in the house, just packed up in boxes and stored in the attic.

It may not be healthy, but holding on to things is part of the grieving process.

Or in Derek's case, a way to torture himself.

Speaking of torture.

Just why the hell would Derek assign him that particular role in his dream? It doesn't make the slightest sense. But maybe this isn't Derek's doing. Maybe it's him, which is even more disturbing.

 _SOME DJINN PREFER TO TAP INTO PEOPLE'S FEARS, MAKE THEIR WORST NIGHTMARES COME TRUE INSTEAD OF THEIR DEEPEST DESIRES._

'Get a grip!'

If Jackson were here, he would tell him the exact same thing, after laughing his ass off, of course, and he would have every reason to do both. Sure, waking up next to Derek makes Stiles extremely uncomfortable, but it's not nearly the worst thing that happened to him. In fact, it doesn't even make it on his top ten list of bad things.

Whatever this thing is between them, Stiles doesn't really have a choice but to go along with it. After all, that's why he is here, to fix Derek, um, to make him see through the illusion and wake up. Whatever. And most times Stiles can't even remember his dreams. Maybe he will simply forget everything that happens here.

Maybe.

Anyway, hiding in the bathroom certainly isn't the way to help Derek. So, Stiles pulls himself together and quickly takes care of business.

When he emerges from the bathroom, Derek is waiting for him in the hallway.

Naturally.

"Everything okay with you?" His voice is low and deep, full of concern, and for some reason that freaks Stiles out even more than the cuddling.

"Yes, I'm fine. I just really needed to pee."

It's obvious that Derek doesn't believe him. He does this weird thing with his eyes. They don't change color, but the stare is still creepy as hell, kinda penetrating, like he is trying to read Stiles' mind. Thank God, _that's_ not one of their traits. Not that Derek would need to resort to such methods, if he could. Stiles' racing heartbeat probably tells him everything he needs to know.

"Well, I better go and help your sister." Stiles stammers, pushing past the werewolf.

Fortunately, Derek doesn't stop or follow him.

* * *

Stiles walks into the kitchen.

It's huge, and so is the table in the adjoining dining room.

"Good, you are back." Laura greets him from behind the counter, setting a huge frying pan on the stove, before going back to chopping bacon. Lots and lots of bacon. "You can help Cora set the table."

"Okay," Stiles nods, walking over to pick up a stack of plates.

"So, did you guys do it last night?" The younger brunette asks casually, while making sure every seat has a set of cutlery and a glass of water.

"Cora," Laura admonishes, but Stiles can still hear the smile in her voice. She probably wants to know, too, but clearly she has more tact than her younger sister.

"What? I just want to know if my brother finally got laid." Cora shrugs.

Did she just indicate that Derek is still a virgin? That can't be true, can it?

"Nothing happened." Stiles mumbles, adding as an afterthought, "I think."

Cora snorts. "Wow, either my bro is actually as uptight as he always acts or he has some kind of voodoo power I don't know about, if he can make you forget."

"Maybe I do, but either way, it's none of your business." Derek snarls, appearing out of nowhere. God, Stiles really should put a bell on him. "And I'm not _uptight_. I just don't put out on the first date … unlike some people."

Stiles feels himself getting bright red.

So, they _are_ dating.

That's okay. He can deal with that. He totally can.

"Well, whatever happened between you two, clearly someone feels embarrassed." A familiar voice remarks from behind him.

Maybe Stiles should buy a bagful of bells, one for each member of the Hale family. He doesn't really need to turn around to know who just came into the house, but he does it anyway. There are some people you shouldn't turn your back on, ever.

And there he is.

Derek's uncle Peter Hale.

Well, sort of.

Evidently, there is some truth to what he said in the hospital. The fire really must have burnt out his personality, or at least some of it, because the guy standing across from Stiles right now has no resemblance with the man he knows.

Sure, on first glance Peter looks the same, rugged and handsome. _'Wow, where did that come from?'_ He has the same mischievous glint in his eyes, but there is no evil vibe. Not even a trace.

Which makes sense.

In this reality the fire didn't happen, which means he didn't get trapped and burnt.

"Hi, I'm Peter. You must be Stiles." He holds out his hand. Apparently they haven't met before.

"Nice to meet you," Stiles says, accepting Peter's hand.

"Something tells me, you don't really mean that." Peter frowns, letting go of Stiles' after a firm but gentle shake. He isn't really angry, though, maybe a little puzzled. "Derek, what have you told him about me?"

"Only the truth." Derek grumbles, busying himself with the coffee maker and the toaster. Apparently, Stiles is not the only one feeling uncomfortable talking about their relationship. It's a comfort, but only a small one.

"Does that include my famous scrambled eggs?" Peter asks. With a smirk he removes his jacket and walks over to Laura. "You are in for a treat, Stiles. Scoot over, niece, and let your favorite uncle do some magic."

* * *

 **So, Stiles had a freak-out and met some members of the Hale family … any thoughts or suggestions?**


	4. Chapter 4

**More family feels.**

* * *

' _Family is not an important thing. It's everything.'_

 _Michael J. Fox_

 **Chapter 4**

It's weird.

This is supposed to be a dream, but clearly it's more than just a simple figment of his – or Derek's – imagination.

Everything feels real.

Like _everything_.

In fact, all of his senses are working perfectly, well more than perfectly actually. They seem to be heightened, not in the supernatural way like werewolf's senses, but they still work better than they usually do in his dreams.

Sure, as far as Stiles can recall, he is always able to see, hear and touch things in his dreams, but for some reason his smell and taste always seem to be out of service.

But they are surely working right now.

Okay, he can't say for sure if his taste buds are working, but considering how the smell of food is making his mouth water and his stomach growl, he is pretty sure they do.

Everything smells great, from the fresh brewed coffee to Peter's scrambled eggs. For a short moment Stiles wonders if the 'real' Peter has a knack for cooking too. Maybe he does, maybe he doesn't, but for now Stiles just files it away with the other information he has been able to gather so far.

 _WATCH AND LISTEN. EVEN THE TINIEST INFORMATION CAN BE HELPFUL._

Suddenly two kids, a boy and a girl, both probably around eight years old, come rushing through the door and tackle Derek. He goes down.

Of course he is faking it. There is no way those two are able to bring him down for real, or keep him pinned to the floor. Derek could throw them off easily, but he doesn't. In fact, he seems to be enjoying himself immensely. There is playful growling, squealing and giggling.

The picture completely throws Stiles.

The Derek he knows is always so serious; never smiling, let alone laughing. As a matter of fact, he has always assumed the werewolf is incapable of doing either. And how could he not? After all the times Derek pushed him against walls, threatened him with his fangs, not to mention the way he treated his Betas; Isaac, Boyd, and Erica in the beginning. Granted, he has changed some, but he is still nothing like this.

All carefree and happy.

Stiles wants to make a snide remark – of course he does – but before he can, two men and a woman walk into the room.

The men look like brothers, but it's the woman who calls Stiles' full attention, well everybody's actually. He can practically feel the shift in the air.

This must be Talia Hale.

Derek's mother.

The Alpha.

"Cut it out, you three. You can play with each other later." She admonishes, but there is no real fire behind her words.

"Jamie, Zoe, you've heard your aunt." One of the men says. His tone of voice is different, though, stricter. Stiles has no doubt that he is their father. "Let's go and get cleaned up. Breakfast seems to be ready."

The two kids are up and gone within seconds, following their father into the bathroom.

Derek is on his feet a moment later, walking over to his mother. He leans in to kiss her on the cheek. It's a simple, sweet gesture, completely unlike him. And so is the sheepish look on his face. "Sorry, Mom."

"It's alright, Sweetie." She laughs, caressing his cheek. "They've missed you too."

Then Talia walks through the room, greeting everybody individually. There is a lot of touching and hugging, more kisses on the cheek. To a normal human it might seem a bit strange, maybe even a little too much considering they probably haven't been apart for long, but not to Stiles.

It's obvious what she is doing.

She is scent marking her pack.

The only weird part is that she doesn't leave him out. She doesn't kiss him on the cheek, or anything, but she gives him a really nice hug. One of those hugs only a mother can give.

"I'm glad you are here, Stiles." She says, releasing him slowly.

There is a smile on her face. It's warm and genuine, and full of approval, which makes him even more uncomfortable than waking up in Derek's arms.

"Me too," Stiles stammers. He doesn't miss the snickering coming from Peter and Cora, but decides to ignore it, and he is not the only one.

Talia rolls her eyes and winks at him, before turning around and addressing the entire room.

"Well, come on everybody, let's take a seat and eat."

* * *

Breakfast is quite the affair.

It's loud and chaotic, but fun.

Granted, there is a moment in the beginning, when Derek looks like he always does. Like a sourwolf. But that's probably because Talia insists that Stiles and he sit across from each other instead of side by side. Whatever reason she has for keeping them apart, she doesn't say, and Derek doesn't dare to question her.

But he is still upset. Hence the sour look on his face.

Stiles tries his best to hide his smile, but of course it doesn't go unnoticed by said werewolf. There is a glint in Derek's eyes, which looks very familiar. In fact, it's the same look he always wears just before pushing Stiles up against the wall. However, this time he is sure the meaning behind is different. Promising, but not threatening.

Stiles keeps his head down for most of the meal, barely saying a word, but he listens very attentively. If he wants to haul Derek's ass out of here, he needs to learn everything he can, and fast.

They chat about anything and everything – school, work, the latest movie they saw, the usual mundane stuff. Thankfully, nobody forces Stiles to contribute something. Sure, he answers when somebody asks him a direct question, but for the most they just let him eat in peace. And he does, with abandon. No wonder. He is starving and the food is really, _really_ good.

When they are finally done with breakfast, everybody helps clearing the table, but nobody seems to be eager to do the dishes. Which isn't really a surprise, since there are quite a lot of dishes to clean. Stiles doesn't like to do it either, but considering he just ate a huge portion of their food, he ventures washing up is the least he can do to repay the favor. But before he can offer his help, Laura calls his attention.

"Hey Stiles, I'm heading into town. If you like, I can give you a ride home."

Unsurprisingly, Derek tries to object but his mother stops him before he gets the chance. "You are going to help Peter do the dishes."

Both men grumble but neither one voices their displeasure. Talia may not be his alpha, but something tells Stiles, defying her orders, no matter how insignificant they are, isn't a great idea.

Not that he wants to oppose her.

In fact, as much fun and enlightening as this has been so far, going home is probably a good idea. Stiles really needs a break, some alone time to help him regain focus and come up with a plan. And he cannot do this here.

"Okay," Stiles agrees, "Let me just get my jacket."

"I'll wait for you in the car." Laura says, grabbing her bag, and then she is out the door.

Of course, Stiles wants to go right after her, but his mother had taught him better manners. He may not be one for making rounds, shaking everybody's hand, but the least thing he can do is telling them that he is grateful their hospitality.

"Breakfast was great. Thanks for having me."

It's not his best line, but it seems to be enough.

"Anytime, Stiles." Talia smiles. "You are always welcome in our house."

Her husband, Derek's father, stands behind her, but he is not saying a word. Stiles figured out pretty fast that he is not exactly the talkative type – a character trait the real Derek clearly must have inherited from him – but considering he wears the exact same facial expression, he clearly agrees with his wife.

"Thanks," Stiles says again, blushing. He doesn't add anything else, just waves his goodbye to the room, but nobody seems to really care.

Derek and Peter have their backs turned on him, busy doing the dishes. Cora looks up from her spot on the couch and smirks at him, but just for a moment, before she goes back to reading her magazine. Jamie and Zoe are too engrossed watching some stupid kids show on the television to notice anything happening around them. Their father went out back shortly after breakfast, probably for a smoke and hasn't returned yet.

Stiles takes it as his cue to leave and walks towards the front door. But just when he reaches for the handle, he remembers something vital.

 _YOU NEED TO BUILD A RAPPORT WITH DEREK, CREATE SOME KIND OF PERSONAL CONNECTION._

Stiles highly doubts that Deaton was talking about _this_ – him and Derek dating. But the veterinarian still has a point.

This is why he is here. He needs to get close to Derek, gain his trust, and leaving without saying _anything_ to the guy would be kinda counterproductive.

Who knows how much time Derek has left before it's too late to do anything to help him. So if he has to make out with the werewolf in order to achieve his goal, Stiles will do it, no matter how uncomfortable it makes him.

Telling himself, there are much worse things, Stiles turns around and mutters, "Um … Derek, I guess I see you later …"

The werewolf hears him, of course he does, but he doesn't turn around. He just looks over his shoulder and stares at him, clearly surprised that Stiles is suddenly paying him attention.

Stiles doesn't blame him, though. Derek has every right to feel neglected. So far, Stiles hasn't done anything to suggest that he cares about him.

Derek doesn't say anything in return. He just nods and smiles.

It's not one of his usual forced smiles. No, it's one of those private smiles only lovers share.

Stiles swallows hard and bolts.


	5. Chapter 5

**A little interrogation and some heartache for Stiles, sorry about that, but it's crucial for the story.**

* * *

' _A mother's arms are made of tenderness and children sleep soundly in them.'_

 _Victor Hugo_

 **Chapter 5**

Laura is waiting for him in her car, just like she promised.

It's a blue Prius, nothing like Derek's flashy black Cameo.

They drive through the woods in silence, but Stiles can tell that Laura is itching to say something. But for whatever reason, she waits until they reach the edge of the woods, before she finally speaks up.

"I don't know what exactly happened between you and my brother last night – and unlike my sister I won't ask for details – but I can sense something is … _wrong_."

For a split second Stiles wonders if he screwed up already, by saying the wrong thing or rather, nothing at all. But going by the look on her face, Laura probably just sensed his anxiety, which – in hindsight – could mean all sort of things.

"I didn't lie when I told Cora nothing happened." Stiles tells her, still hoping it's the truth. Maybe something did happen between them, but the only person who would know is Derek. And going by his earlier reaction, he isn't going to tell his sisters anything. So Stiles should be safe, for now, well until Derek confronts him, that is.

"I know." Laura replies, placidly.

"I sense a 'but' coming …"

"Smart boy." She smirks. "I like you, Stiles. You know I do. Everyone does actually."

"Even Peter?" Stiles can't help but ask.

"Yes." Laura chuckles. "Granted, you two just met, but believe me, if Peter didn't approve of you, you would know."

"I have no doubt about that." Stiles comments, dryly. Sure, Peter seems to be different in this reality, but something tells him, no matter how much Derek is able to influence his dream, some things will never change. In Stiles' mind he is and always will be a sly dog. "I'm sure he is a force to be reckoned with."

"He is." Laura confirms, adding, "Then again, we all are, in our own way. We have to be. You know what we are, and why we have to be careful who we let in, who we share our secret with. Pack, family, means everything to us …"

"I feel the same way." Stiles interjects, feeling the need to point out that, in this, he is just like them.

His dad means the world to him, even more than his friends. Protecting him, keeping him away from all the supernatural drama hasn't been easy, but it's worth it. Sure, being in the know has its advantages, and sometimes it make things easier for them, but it doesn't necessarily mean it's safer for everyone. And all he wants is to keep his dad safe and alive. He can't lose another parent. He just can't.

"I know," She repeats, biting her lower lip.

It's obvious she is unsure how to proceed, but fortunately, Stiles has a quick tongue and is not afraid to use it. "Let me guess. What you are trying to tell me is 'Don't mess with my brother, unless you want your throat getting ripped out by my teeth?'"

"Wow," Laura laughs. "I don't know why you would think I would resort to such violent action … but yes, basically you are right."

"I know, and believe me; I'll keep that in mind." Stiles says. He stays silent for a few moments, playing with the strings of his sweater. He is nervous and with good reason. One false step, one false word, and the whole mission could blow up in his face. By now Stiles knows he doesn't just have to get closer to Derek, but to his family too. As weird as it sounds, they are the key to getting Derek out. And forming a friendship with his older sister, covertly asking for her help, might be a good start. "I don't know what is going on between Derek and me. It's …"

"New?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'm not exactly good at giving relationship advice, but whatever doubts or reservations you have, you really should talk to Derek." Laura advises, quickly adding, "I know he is not very good at talking, but I know he will listen. Just don't make him think he has a chance with you if you aren't interested."

Stiles wants to point out that Derek would be able to sense that, but he keeps his mouth shut.

"He really likes me?"

"Of course, he does. Isn't it obvious?"

"Maybe, but to tell the truth, it's kinda … unexpected."

"Why? Because you are kinda awkward and pretty much all over the place?" Laura smirks. It's not a compliment, but not an insult either. Actually, it's a pretty good description of his character.

"Yeah."

"So what?" Laura shrugs. "They say opposites attract, so why shouldn't that apply to you and my brother?"

"Good point," Stiles mumbles, still not sure what to make of it. Maybe every time Derek pushed him against a wall, threatening him with bodily harm, has been the werewolf's way of showing his feelings. Or this dream reality just altered his perception. But whatever reason is driving Derek, Stiles knows he has to play along, as hard and weird as it might be.

Laura lets him out a few blocks away from his house. Her parting words are short and simple, "See you soon."

"I'm sure, I will," Stiles replies, quickly getting out. He waves his goodbye as she drives away.

Wondering what will await him, he walks down the street towards his house.

* * *

There is no car in the driveway, not even his jeep.

Which is strange, but maybe it's in the shop for its yearly inspection, just like it is in the real world.

Stiles doesn't have to use his keys to open the front door, it's unlocked. For some people this might be a sign, a clue that something is off, but not for Stiles. They rarely ever lock up the house. And why should they? Who would be crazy enough to break into the Sheriff's house? And even if there was someone, he wouldn't find any valuables.

The house is quiet.

Obviously, his dad is at work. Where else would he be? This is Derek's dream after all, not his.

Everything looks the same, just the way Stiles left it in real life, not squeaky clean, but still tidy. However, there are some items lying around the living room which he and his dad did get rid of years ago. Well, not for good, of course, but they put them in boxes and stashed them in the attic.

Maybe his dad had one of his nights, where he gets all sentimental and weepy. It happens, not as often as it used to, but still every once in a while. Stiles doesn't blame him, though. He has those moments too. But whenever they happen for his dad, he always puts back everything, acting like nothing happened. It's a nice gesture, but futile nonetheless. Stiles may not have any supernatural talents, but he has a keen sense of perception. There is pretty much nothing he doesn't notice, eventually.

So, why would he leave his dead wife's stuff lying around this time?

 _I DON'T KNOW HOW LONG IT WILL TAKE, BUT SOONER OR LATER THE DJINN'S POISON WILL AFFECT YOU TOO. ALWAYS BE PREPARED._

Preparation is everything, Stiles knows that, but nothing could have prepared him for this.

"Hey, sweetie, did you have a great time last night?" A soft, female voice asks, coming seemingly out of nowhere.

Stiles recognizes the voice at once, even though he hasn't heard it in years. Needless to say, his reaction to hearing it is strong. His breath gets stuck in his throat and he can practically feel his heart beating against his rib-cage.

In a word, he is shocked to the core.

"Mom?" Stiles manages to choke out.

"Who did you expect?" Claudia Stilinski laughs, putting down the laundry basket. No wonder he didn't hear her before. She must have been in the basement.

"Mom," Stiles repeats, his voice breaking at the end. He can feel tears gathering behind his eyes. She doesn't look like the woman Stiles remembers. _That_ woman was thin, weak, a shadow of herself. The woman standing in the kitchen right now is the complete opposite. She is happy and beautiful, so full of life.

Before he can stop himself, Stiles runs into the kitchen and pulls his mother into his arms, hugging her like there is no tomorrow. And maybe this is his only chance, who knows?

"Oh my god," She laughs again, not fighting her son's exuberant show of affection, just going with it.

It takes everything in Stiles not to start crying like a baby, but he manages to keep it together, just barely though.

They embrace each other for a minute, maybe two, it's hard to tell. If it were up to him, Stiles would have stayed like this for hours.

It's his mom who pulls away first. "What was that all about?"

It's not a real accusation, but it's something similar.

"Nothing, I'm just happy to see you." Stiles replies, trying his best to play it cool.

But clearly, his mom isn't convinced. In fact, she looks at him, like she always did whenever he would come up with weak excuses. "You didn't spend the night with Scott, did you?"

"No." Stiles confesses, not even daring to come up with a lie.

His mom doesn't look very surprised, more resigned than anything. "Who did you spend it with?"

"Derek." He provides.

"I figured." She nods. Apparently, their blooming relationship isn't just known to the Hales.

Stiles should have seen the next question coming, but he is still caught off guard.

"Do we need to have the 'talk' again?"

"No." Stiles exclaims, shuddering.

He can still remember the last the time he had 'the talk' with his mother. It's been years, sure, but he can still remember how uncomfortable it's been. Then again, what teenager actually does like to have that particular talk with his or her parents? For some reason, Claudia Stilinski gave him the all over, not just the 'straight' version. He always wondered if she knew he goes both ways, or if she just wanted to be thorough, covering all the basics.

"Nothing happened, I promise." Stiles hurries to appease his mother. Sure, he still doesn't know if it's the truth, but unless _someone_ tells him otherwise, that's what he's going with.

"I believe you." His mother tells him, smiling. "But don't think you are off the hook. We will talk about this later. Why don't you go upstairs and get cleaned up? It looks like you didn't have a shower yet."

Stiles is glad for the reprieve, even if it is a short one. Taking a shower and changing his clothes sounds very good, actually.

"I love you, Mom." He says, before making his way up the stairs.

"Me too, kochanie."

* * *

 **kochanie – 'sweetie, darling' in Polish**


End file.
